Uprising over new vending machines led to destruction of Student Center
By John Dumm
The Student Community Center cafeteria has been named a demilitarized zone by the department of public safety because almost no human has stepped foot in there since the fall semester began. The only known human activity occurred when approximately 40 students have been estimated to have taken part in a spontaneous act of vandalism Wednesday, August 30 upon discovery of vending machines completely replacing hot meal options there, according to a public safety report.
As of July 2017, the Student Community Center cafeteria has been closed down for renovations, with no word from either staff or summer students on plans for the renovation inspiring rioting and spiking depression diagnosis rates as of August 30, as renovation seems to have ceased with the cafeteria in a completely inoperable, presumably condemned state.
“The place is completely dead, nothing but chairs anymore,” reports psychology student, CCM culinary economist, and noted chair enthusiast Matthew Bristol. “They walled up the debris from the last good eatery on campus, slapped down about seven vending machines, didn’t even bother filling them all — really, it’s an impressively, extravagantly, horrible remodel. It took genuine effort to disrespect the memory of the A-Caf this badly.”
A postmortem survey of the accessibility, affordability, and public knowledge of alternative restaurants reveals dire news and solid cause for the student exodus that has been rounding the rumor mills since the fall student influx.
“It’s like the architects got confused and figured the game room was a ritual-crafted portal to the Ledgewood Mall,” Bristol said. “The Cohen Cafe rework was by all reports a success, clean aesthetic, same friendly staff, new burgers, but the new burgers are the only viable option, and they cost eight bucks a pop- that’s just under eight individual dollar menu items at the Ledgewood chain restaurants, and about the price of a full meal at most of the Ledgewood specialties and the A&P district restaurants. That’s eight burgers per burger, people. If we’re getting gouged that hard, I want the option to order my meat medium rare. Or at the very least with an egg on it, or some other ridiculous, obtuse ingredient.”
Moe Che Sanders, a student who spends most of his time on campus in the video game room, said that he was baffled by what looks like deliberate support of the proto-socialist game room commune that has sprung up since the change.
“They’re even doing promotional discounts for Ledgewood restaurants, which is I suppose a direct subsidy to any students using this as an ersatz lab course in the Economics of Smuggling 101,” said Sanders, who insists that he is a smuggling major despite no such a program existing.
With regards to the A&P district restaurants: China City, Cluck U Chicken, and Scalici’s Pizzeria as of last survey their cheap prices, relatively high-quality food, and convenient location three minutes from Parking Lot One has sparked an almost total shift in the eating habits of all three main demographics of the SCC, Game Room, Pong Room, and Chair Enthusiasts, respectively.
“An actual relocation of the SCC is obviously completely unfeasible,” said frequent Ping Pong Room occupant Lizzy Pierre, toting a complex locational survey helpfully compiled by anonymous business and architecture students as part of an organized complaint to the dean. “Half the value of the place is that it’s an average ten-minute walk from every classroom on campus, and Lot One is already beyond feasible walking distance of the school’s main commuter hub- which is, paradoxically, the current SCC. Nonetheless, the A&P block is so close by car and fulfills so many of the community’s demands- Chinese food, Sportsbar food, Pizza food, there’s a card game shop down the way- next to, I think, a Thai food place and another pizza food- that the SCC regulars have established a kind of forward base there. The A&P itself, is, of course, derelict, which is where this ridiculous relocation idea came from.”
Pierre advises students affected by the teardown to pool their resources with the rest of the SCC community’s attempts to cope, contributing to the bizarre merchant commune formed around people with large cars and open schedules, contacting the musical theater department about their night-bombing and hostage raids on the culinary classrooms behind the primary conference room, or even just joining a support group and going on a diet now that Frosties are expensive again.